


Deserving

by raelee514



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Internal homophobia, M/M, Season 5 What If Jimmy Was There
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10676070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: This is a ficlet I had in a maybe I'll play with it later pile but rereading it felt finished enough to post...   It's a What if Jimmy was still around when Thomas decided to do the Choose Your Own Path.





	Deserving

Jimmy looked down the hall in both directions before he opened the door to Thomas’ room. He walked in and closed the door behind him. He locked the door behind him. And looked around the room — it was a bit bigger than his but not by much. He walked over to the set of drawers Thomas had pushed against a wall. He opened and closed them until found a drawer that had no clothing items in it. 

Miscellaneous letters and trinkets. He shook his head and pulled open the last drawer. Nothing. Nothing. No there was something, there was something going on and he was going to figure it out. 

He looked around the room. Walked over the bed and then dropped to the floor. It was there. The box. Jimmy only seen him with twice but it was enough to peak his curiosity and Thomas refused to talk about it. Jimmy reached for it not feeling at all guilty for pushing his way into Thomas’ business.

Thomas nearly fell down the stairs today. Yesterday Jimmy had feared he was going to pass out during dinner service. Baxter was following him around and trying to get him talk. If that didn’t tell Jimmy something was wrong and off, nothing else would. He hadn’t talked with her. Not yet. He wasn’t quite sure yet if she really had Thomas’ interests in heart. Jimmy knew what happened between them. 

What he did know was he had to find out what was happening to his best mate. He grabbed the box and sat it down on Thomas’ bed and opened it. Pills, syringes and vials filled it. He stared at all and picked up a needle, staring at it and trying to make sense of all it. He looked at the vials and pills, but it didn’t say what kind of medicine or drug they could be. 

Something was poking up out of it, paper and he pulled on it. Unsettling the top tier and realizing there was a bottom of the box. He found a magazine there and he frowned at it. It was warped and used. He let the pages fall open on their own and the fluttered to page in the back where advertisements were posted. 

 

Jimmy read the advertisement in horror. He stared at the words in black and white and felt blood rush out of him. He sat down on the bed and stared at the words. Willing them to turn into something else. He felt sick. What was he thinking? What had he done? What was he doing? 

He shoved the magazine back where he found it. Closed the box and shoved it back under Thomas’ bed. He didn’t know what to do now? What the hell did he do now? He stood in Thomas’ room and looked around it. As if it might have the answers. His heart was beating too fast. 

He heard footsteps in the hall then. He stared at the door, half waiting for someone to try to open it. When no one did he breathed out a sigh — but it sure wasn’t a relieved one. He quickly exited Thomas’ room and made his way downstairs. 

He spent the rest of the day staring at Thomas. He knew he was and he tried to turn away every time he was caught. But he found he didn’t care. What was in those vials? What was the needle for. Thomas looked worse than he had that morning. He was unnatural shade of white, his lips were white too and he looked like he was sweating. Jimmy saw him falter in his steps at least three times — and Thomas covered quickly but Jimmy saw the effort. 

How was no one else seeing it?”

“Thomas, maybe you should sit down?” Baxter said from the other end of the servants hall. 

Thomas stood by the piano leaning against the wall. “I’m fine, Miss Baxter.”

“You don’t look fine,” she said. 

Thomas looked at Jimmy. “Tell her I’m fine… play will you?” he glanced at the piano.

Jimmy stared at him and decided to be blunt. “You look like shit.”

“I will not have that language in here, James,” Mrs. Hughes said but she turned to Thomas. “But you do look as if you should have a lie in.”

“I’m fine,” Thomas bit out and he sent Jimmy a look betrayal and walked away. 

Jimmy watched him go and realized he no idea what to do. But he had to do something, so he got up to follow Thomas. But a hand clamped onto his arm. He turned and met Baxter’s eyes. 

“We need to talk,” she said.

Jimmy nodded. 

She walked them into the boot room and closed the door. “I’m very worried about Mr. Barrow.”

“Why?” Jimmy asked. Unsure she could trust him.

“You’ve seen him, have you not?”

“Could have a flu…” Jimmy hedged. 

“Do you think that?”

“No.”

“There are some things he said.”

“About?”

“About not feeling wrong things anymore.”

Jimmy paled and thought of that magazine advertisement. 

“I think he’s hurting himself,” Baxter said. 

Jimmy thought of the vials and the pills. “He is, I think.”

Baxter deflated and the worry in her eyes and face seemed to double. “He won’t talk with me. I’ve known him since he was ten, James… He’s always been troubled but he’s…” she trailed. “He won’t talk to me.”

“I’ll talk with him. But I can’t promise…” Jimmy looked away. He didn’t know what to do. How did he bring it up? He couldn’t let Thomas know he went through his things? Could he?

“Please do. Quickly.”

Jimmy nodded. He went upstairs and straight to Thomas room. He knocked and turned the knob. Thomas was on his bed, mostly still dressed, on top of the covers. He looked too still and too white. Jimmy flew across the room and touched his chest. It was rising and falling, his breathe sounded off to Jimmy now that he could hear it. 

Thomas moaned and Jimmy heard pain. He reached out and put his hand Thomas’ forehead. He was burning up, he was way too hot. He shouldn’t be so hot. He’d never felt such heat from a man before. Thomas made another sound that cut through Jimmy because of the pain it showed. Without realizing it Jimmy ran his hand through Thomas’ hair before starting to turn around. He had to get Dr. Clarkson. 

A hand gripped the wrist of the hand that was still over Thomas’ head. The grip was hard and strong, belying how awful Thomas looked and felt. Jimmy stared down at him. “You’re sick, Mr. Barrow…”

“I know that…” Thomas bit out. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you,” Jimmy said.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

Thomas shoved Jimmy’s hand back at him. “Check on me.” He got up but Jimmy saw the effort. “Go.”

“I’m getting Dr. Clarkson, you’ve a fever and I think…”

“No,’ Thomas shot up and grabbed Jimmy’s arm. “No.”

“Thomas you’re sick,” Jimmy snapped. 

“Not not for much longer — I think. It’ll go away, I’ll get through it.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“It makes sense. It does. Jimmy I…” he stared at Jimmy. “Please, it has too.”

Jimmy felt lost. He thought about what was under the bed. “Thomas, I think you’re doing something stupid.”

Thomas laughed. “Been talking to Baxter have you. I can take care of myself.”

“I THINK you’re doing something stupid. Let me get Dr. Clarkson.”

“No, no. Please Jimmy, no.” Thomas looked at him pleading.

Jimmy swallowed and looked away. “Thomas, tell me what you’re doing.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Thomas said. Clipped. “Get him if you want, I’ll refuse to see him.”

Jimmy sighed. 

“And you can leave.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No.” He reached out and started to pull off Thomas’ waistcoat and Thomas hands come up but Jimmy batted them away. “Let’s just get you down your vest, okay.” 

“Jimmy,” Thomas’ voice sounded strangled. 

Jimmy was pulling on the buttons of Thomas’ shirt. He then pushed them down his shoulders, his hands feeling the heat coming from Thomas’s skin. “You should take a cool bath, will you do that at least?” Jimmy asked looking up and the look Thomas was giving him made him shiver.

Thomas looked scared, frightened, confused, and angry. 

“Thomas?”

“Get out. You have to get out. You, you… HAVE TO GET OUT.” 

Hands gripped him and pushed and Jimmy found himself in the hall. He lunged back for the door but heard the lock click behind it. “Thomas, Thomas…” 

“Go away,” Thomas called out. 

Jimmy hit the door in frustration. 

~~~

The next day, luckily, was Jimmy’s half day and he went down to the village. He found another issue of the magazine he’d found under Thomas’ bed and flipped through the back until he found the same advertisement. He stared at it, the horrible cold chill from before flying down his spine. 

He asked the store clerk to use his phone. Offered to pay for it even, but the man let him use it and even gave him some privacy. “You look half-crazed, must be important,” he said. 

Jimmy just nodded and he dialed the phone number. “This is the number for Choose Your own Path?”

“Yes,” a voice said on the phone.

“What is that exactly?” 

“Well, if you’re feeling unnatural urges, it is possible to set yourself right. A choice.”

Jimmy frowned. “How would that work?”

“If you wish to enter the program, you have to pay the fee and come to London. There may be other additional fees.”

“For what?”

“We can make an appointment for you in London.”

“I don’t want a bloody appointment. A friend of mine is sick…”

“We can help you make arrangements to bring him to us and we’ll set him on the right path.”

Jimmy felt sick. “Thomas…” he felt like he couldn’t grasp the importance and horror of the situation. He hung up on the man and started back toward the house. 

~~~

When he walked in the door, Baxter was pounding on a door. “Thomas, Thomas…”

Jimmy flew toward her. “What is it?”

“He won’t let me in, something is wrong, he called out in pain.” She hit the door. 

“Thomas, Thomas…” Jimmy pounded on the door. 

“Mind your business.”

“You are my business!”

The door flew open a crack and Thomas appeared looking worse than before. Jimmy started to reach out but Thomas moved back. “That’s a laugh. You don’t want anything to do with ME. Not really.”

“Thomas…” Jimmy growled. 

“Leave me alone.”

“What’s in the vials,” Jimmy asked. 

Thomas blinked.

“The pills?”

“GO!”

“This isn’t choosing your own path Thomas… you're, you're just hurting yourself. Come on…. Let me in…. LET ME IN.” 

The door closed.

Jimmy leaned his head against the wood and smacked it with his palm. “Thomas, I’m not leaving. I’m staying here. You have to trust me, just let me in.”

“What do you know, you know nothing.”

“I know you aren’t sick and you aren’t wrong,” Jimmy argued. “You’re not. It doesn’t matter what the Church says or the law, or whoever. You’re hurting yourself for reason, no reason, Thomas. Please, let me in.”

“I can’t.. Can’t. You’re making it not work…” Jimmy felt his heart break, Thomas sounded so small. 

“Am I? Good, good… Thomas it shouldn’t work, I don’t think it can work. Let me in, Thomas… please?”

The door opened. No more than a crack. Jimmy pushed it opened. The box was open, vials out and the needle. He swallowed down bile and glanced at Baxter who was still in the hall. “Get Dr. Clarkson.”

She nodded. He waited until she was out of sight, before he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Thomas was sitting on the floor against the far wall and he walked over and slid down next to him. He reached out and grabbed Thomas left hand in his his, gripping it as tight as Jimmy dared and shoved his shoulder and leg against his. 

“Tell me.”

Thomas opened his mouth but a sob came out instead of words and Jimmy leaned harder against him. Dropped his hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Thomas shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Jimmy.”

“I’ll wait. Thomas, I’ll wait,” Jimmy said. 

Thomas looked at him, tears streaking his face. “You make it impossible not to love you.”

Jimmy shook his head. “You’re the one that should get to hear that.”


End file.
